Breathe
by Mashpotatoe Queen
Summary: Being possessed by a demon left its mark on people. Being possessed by a demon at the young age of twelve left terrible, terrible marks on people that stayed long after the demon was gone. (AKA: That one story where Dipper and Mabel have panic attacks and they comforts each other.) The second chapter has swearing, hence the rating. :)
1. Dipper

**Hello there, my peeps! :)**

 **This fic is completely and utterly based off of this one picture I saw on Pinterest. I have, actually, managed to track down the owner; a lovely artist who goes by the name sailorleo. All story credit idea belongs to this wonderful human being. However, I haven't managed to figure out how to get in contact with her and ask her permission for this fic; if anyone out there can give me any advice or can ask the artist yourself, that would be greatly appreciated! :)**

 **PLEASE GO CHECK SAILORLEO OUT! :D :D :D**

 **I saw this picture and my hands just flew to life. It was really powerful. (And depressing.) I love Gravity Falls, and so to see something like this kind of broke my heart, but only because my love for the characters and their bond is so strong.**

 **TRIGGER WARNING! _THIS FIC INCLUDES A PANIC ATTACK AND POSSIBLE PTSD; IF THIS CAN HARM YOU IN ANY WAY PLEASE TAKE CARE; I DON'T WANT TO UPSET ANYONE!_ _(Also if this triggers you in any way I hope you know you are absolutely amazing and that I love you and that I hope that whatever you're going through gets better.)_**

 **Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!**

 **...**

" _Ok, just breathe… What's your name?_ "

The air was catching in his throat, getting broken and stuck and tearing it apart into pieces. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, because it was so _wrong, wrong, wrong_. His heart was stuttering in his chest and every scar, every bruise, everything that had ever happened in that summer because of that terrible demon _burned_. Everything was burning with blue fire and he wanted it off, he wanted it to _go away_.

Blue fire, like when his stupid, stupid younger self had reached out and grabbed that hand, grabbed it and watched as it burst into flames, grabbed it and watched as his life burned down around him.

He choked, blinked back tears. There was no Bill Cypher; there was just him. Just Dipper and Mabel. He was okay.

" _Dipper P-Pines."_

The hands around his fingers gave a quick squeeze, and he tried to swallow again because he could still feel all control of his body abruptly leaving him. Could still see himself, could see Bill, taking over his body and could still feel the absolute hopelessness of not being able to do anything and he was trapped, trapped in his own mind and-

" _How old are you?"_

He had been twelve. Twelve. Too young, too stupid, not smart enough or strong enough or brave enough. Still wasn't. He had almost gotten everyone he loved killed, or _worse_. He had almost ruined everything, and it was all his fault, _all his fault_. Everything was his fault. He had been so, so young and he had been so, so lost and why did he ever have to find that stupid journal and summon that stupid demon. Why was he so _stupid_?

He blinked.

He suddenly wasn't in Gravity Falls anymore. He was in a small cramped kitchen sitting on a simple wooden dining chair at a simple wooden dining table. The counters were a mess and the kitchen clock read 2:43 AM. His loose pajamas were somehow scratching at his skin and the world was a blur though his tears. Someone's hands were holding his, fuzzy pink sleeping shirt softly brushing against his wrist, and it was Mabel.

Mabel.

He could trust her.

 _ **TRUST NO ONE!**_

But he could trust _her_.

" _Fifteen."_

Breathe in, breathe out. He was here, not there. He was okay. He was fine.

" _Where's Bill?"_

Immediately, he began shaking. Breaths coming fast and hard and choked, but there was no air in those breaths, only the ghosts of memories long past and nightmares of blue fire.

He was a wimp. He was stupid. He was _vulnerable_ , and any minute Bill was going to appear behind him, was going to start speaking and was going to hold out his hand, blue fire sparking into life, and he was going to take it like the idiot he was and ruin everything _again_.

He could feel the burning once more, except this time it was everywhere, and it was burning him alive.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fought back the tears, one breath and then another, opened them. Stared at his hand that his sister was holding so tight, so carefully- as if he would shatter at any given moment- reminded himself that he was here. He was here and he was alive- they were all alive- and Bill had no power over him anymore. They had won.

" _H-He's gone, he's dead."_

He knew, logically, that he was safe. That he was okay. That Bill Cypher was long gone and that would never come back. _He was safe_. He was okay. Bill Cypher was dead. Bill Cypher would never be able to harm him again.

But he still saw him. Saw him in his dreams. In his nightmares. Glowing red eyes and burning blue fire, cackles echoing throughout his consciousness and watching himself- watching Bill in his body- pretend and pretend and pretend. Watched as he set up every demise of every loved one. Watched, helpless, as they died and screamed and cried.

Mabel.

Grunckle Stan.

Great Uncle Ford.

Soos.

Wendy.

Mom.

Dad.

All of them, gone. _Dead_. By his own hand.

Over and over and over, the eerie laughter playing like a demented theme song in the background.

And then Bill turning on him, reaching out and grabbing his hand and shaking him, shaking him and telling him- telling him the truth- that it was his fault, all his fault…

He always woke up screaming.

His hand was pressed to his mouth, he realized, and he was shaking like a leaf as the tears streamed down his face.

Mabel was squeezing his hand. She was okay. She was fine. Bill hadn't gotten to her. _He_ hadn't gotten to her.

" _Yeah. It's okay. You're safe."_

He swallowed. Safe. He was safe? He didn't feel that safe. Because _what if_? What if Bill came back? What if he had escaped? Bill was a dream demon. Bill had been in his dreams, torturing him in his sleep; did that mean he was back?

It did. He was back and he was coming for him and he was going to make all the wrong choices and he was going to get everyone killed for _real_ this time and-

Mabel was looking at him, rubbing circles into his numb hand, and her large brown eyes were shining with worry and fear, but they were real, they were _alive_ , and she was okay. She was _safe._

If she was okay, Dipper could be okay, too. He could.

Tentatively, he forced his fingers to move. He closed his eyes and blocked out the rest of the world, focused only on the two warm hands holding his own.

There was no demons. No monsters or deals or terrible mistakes that he could never take back. No more nightmares turned reality.

There was no Bill Cypher.

His fingers twitched, curled around and grasped Mabel's hands like a lifeline. Slowly, his other hand lowered and joined the limbs on the table. His sister grabbed that one as well- gently, so gently- and gave it a quick squeeze.

He was in control. He was okay.

" _I'm safe."_

And Mabel gave him a smile, stood up- still holding his hands- and gently pulled him down the corridor.

" _Exactly. You're safe. We're all safe."_

And they sat on the old green sofa and watched silly children cartoons until the sun was high in the sky and the world started to wake up, pretending that they were young again and that everything was simple and normal and perfectly _fine_.

He fell asleep with his head buried into the crook of Mabel's neck and his eyes blurring the bright shapes on the TV into a kaleidoscope of colors, finally able to breathe.

Because he was okay. He was safe.

And he knew that tomorrow would be another day. Another battle to live through and fight through and survive through. Another war.

But right then, right then... he was okay. There were no dreams of triangular demons and blue fire. There was no death or doom. He was okay.

He was safe.

 **...**

 **And so, there you have it! I hope everyone enjoyed! :D**

 **Thank you in advance for any reviews or favorites or follows; it means so much much to me that people take the time to leave a little note or a little show of support, and it makes writing an even more wonderful experience. :)**

 **So long!**

 **-Mashpotatoe Queen**


	2. Mabel

**_Hey guys!_ I hadn't even really planned on making the second part of this, but I was watching Gravity Falls with my babysittees last night and got inspired so... Tadah!**

 **I copied words directly from sailorleo's art, and in Mabel's case there was some use of cuss words. Just a warning for all those who don't enjoy that!**

 **Make sure you check the orginol artwork, cause it's an really amazing take on older Dipper and Mabel, and a realistic one, too, I feel, after all they've been through. Just type in sailorleo 'kids dealing with shit' in the search bar and there should be a good link to it. :)**

 **WARNING: PANIC ATTACKS, SWEARING, CRYING, DEATH AND TORTURE MENTIONS. PLEASE DON'T READ IF THOSE THINGS COULD POSSIBLY TRIGGER YOU OR MAKE YOU FEEL LEGITIMATELY UPSET!**

 **I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading! :)**

 ** _..._**

 _Mabel?_

 _I-It's all my f-fault, Dip, a-all my freakin' fault..._

It was the middle of the night, as it so often was when these kind of things happened. When the monsters crept out from behind the closed doors of her mind, inner demons escaping from her tightly labeled jars of DO NOT TOUCH and slipping to the front of her thoughts, to where she was forced to look at them and recognize them and realize, and realize-

And realize it was all her fault.

Dipper was sitting besides her, on the floppy old couch that was far too worn down to really be comfortable. It was where she went when these moments of panic hit her, when sweater town wasn't enough and the blubbering tears became too much to keep quiet.

When her breath caught in her throat and everything became _too much_ and she couldn't even swallow right because, because-

She and Dipper still shared a room.

In another life, one without Bill Cypher and intergalactic monsters and an apocalypse of death and doom and misplaced trust, one without shapeshifters and unicorns and demented baby faced psychics, perhaps they would have eventually moved out into separate rooms. Perhaps they would have grown up to normal, sane, functioning teenagers and the plethora of pills resting in their bathroom counter- _anxiety, PTSD, insomnia, OCD-_ would have never been. Perhaps they would stare at a triangle and not see a single golden eye glowing from the center of it. Perhaps they would have been happy.

Nightmares from _this_ world made sure that never happened, and if only such a perfect world could exist, one in which she could escape to and never come out.

Except… except such a world had existed, and that had been all her freaking fault, too, and had caused the whole mess in the first place, because she had been so _selfish_ and _stupid_ and so many _people_ had gotten hurt.

 _A time bubble!? What the fuck is that, why the fuck did I believe him!?_

Dipper was sitting next to her, eyes half drooping from exhaustion. His hand was on her lower back, rubbing up and down as she shook and sobbed and blubbered on and on, trying to breathe through the tears. He had long since learned to let her let it all out; it was the only way she could ever live with herself, knowing that someone, at least, knew the truth about her, even if it was just the wet patch on her pillow, even if it was her brother, who had already heard it all before.

Even if he would never believe her. Even if she hoped he never would.

Selfish. That was what she was. Selfish.

She had just wanted to have a little more time was what she had said. Just a little bit more time to be a kid. Just a little bit more time to play with Dipper and escape in a land of magic and mysteries and freedom, no matter that Dipper wasn't hers to control- _because that was what Bill Cypher did, he controlled Dipper, forced him to do things that he didn't want, manipulated him and hurt him and Mabel was just as bad, she was just as bad as Bill Cypher and_ \- and that she couldn't just expect him to drop everything for her every time she asked.

Except she did. She did expect him to do that, every single time, still did, because Dipper always, without fail, did just that. Because he was far too good for her and she was far too selfish.

And stupid. She was so, so stupid.

 _Oh yeah, a big stuttery time-guy who tried to kill us twice coming outta the bushes at night, that's such a good idea Mabel, definitely nobody is gonna get hurt from this-_

She gesticulated, throwing her hands wide at her own stupidity, only to draw herself back in, hunching over her knees, breath hitching in her throat as tears streamed down her face.

All her fault. It was all her fault.

And suddenly she was back in those woods, and the trees were big and the sky was dark, and there was that guy, round and stuttery and so very simple looking, and there was her, small and scared about the future and wanting and needy and so terribly selfish and stupid, willing to give up something that wasn't even hers just to keep Dipper by her side- _because she was selfish, selfish, selfish, and stupid, so stupid_ \- for even a couple of days longer, to delay that goodbye that would have torn her to the core.

And then time guy wasn't time guy anymore, but Bill, _Bill_ , glowing and burning yellow, laughing and cackling and smashing the orb onto the ground, starting an apocalypse and hurting so many, _so, so many_ , and it was _all her fault_.

She had given him that orb. She had given him everything he wanted. Just like that, undoing all of Dipper's hard work, all of Uncle Ford's hard work, almost getting Stan brain wiped and almost getting her brother _dead_ and _definitely_ hurting so, so many.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't breathe right with all the snot clogging her nose, and her face was scrunched up and the room in front of her was just a blur of brown and cream and deep purple because of all the tears clouding her vision, and of course there was Dipper.

Dipper. Who had been through so much- so much more than Mabel had been through, surviving in the middle of a bloody apocalypse by himself for _days_ and trying not to get killed while she had been off playing fantasy and not even caring- and yet still sat besides her when she cried. Who was still so understanding- even though it was all her fault, even though she was just as bad as Bill- despite the fact that he had every right to stand up, storm out, and tell her to stop complaining already because it could have been _so much worse_ -

(And the worst part, the worst part was that if she was faced with the choice, faced with the choice of starting that apocolypse all over again or losing her brother, if she was faced with that… she would have chosen the same every time. Every. Single. Time. Because she was selfish, and Dipper had always come first.)

Dipper, who was shifting his hand from her back to her own sweaty, wet, slimy palm, and holding it tight. Dipper, who was so patient, so kind, looking at her with tired, concerned eyes, murmuring in his quiet voice-

 _We were twelve. It was fucked up_.

And when Dipper had this- this whatever it was. These attacks. These hidden fears and repressed emotions crawling their way up to the top. Whenever Dipper had these, he went quiet and still, eyes wide and shaky and entire body tense, skittery and jumpy and glancing at every shadow as if it was about to come alive and eat him. He repressed himself, curled into himself, and all Mabel could do was croon away at him, ask him questions and remind him that he was here- _not there, not then, no more Bill, we're safe_ \- hold his hand tight because he looked like he would break if she did anything else, because he needed to feel in control, because he needed to feel as if he could run away if he wanted to, like he had a choice. Because Dipper Pines was nothing if he wasn't sacrificial, and he would always take what was given to him in silence if he could help it.

And Mabel? Mabel always cried. She always cried and sobbed and shook and wailed, always rambled on and on and on about herself, because that was what she was like. She always wanted the attention, always wanted the focus, always wanted to be in the spotlight- building an entire world in which everyone adored her and wanted to please her should be proof enough- and was always, always so selfish that she couldn't even keep herself quiet when she felt bad, she had to dump her emotions on someone else's shoulders.

And of course, almost always those would be Dipper's shoulders, even though she knew he already carried the weight of the world without complaint.

Because she was a horrible person. That was what she was. A horrible, horrible person, who hurt others and let others suffer and started an apocalypse because of her utter horribleness.

 _If I hadn't been so… so… that stupid unicorn was right about me. I'm a terrible person, if I'd just paid more attention Bill never would've hurt you and he w-wouldn't have…_

Her sweater was itchy, the sleeves rubbing on her arms and constraining her, but she refused to take it off, because she deserved it, she deserved every bit of irritation, and so much more.

And she wished she could go back, wished she could go back to that stupid magical glade and that stupid upstuck magical unicorn- _It's not my fault you're a bad person_ \- and she wished she could apologize. She wish she could grab back the words- _All this time, all this time I thought I was a bad person, but you're even worse than I am!_ \- and change them, she wished she could turn and leave and say, _No, no, you're far better than I could ever be. I'm horrible, I'm a bad person, you were_ right, _you were right about everything_.

Because all it took was one phrase about how she wasn't perfect and Mabel had turned the whole thing on herself, it had no longer been about helping her family, just that Mabel wasn't as perfect as she thought she was, and she had just focused on that, focused on that instead of the important things, like the _safety of her family_ -

The blanket, soft and pink and flowery, was around her shoulders. Dipper had brought it down for her. She almost wished he hadn't, almost wished he didn't care so much, that he wasn't so nice, because this was all her fault and if he could only _see_ -

Dipper winced, and she was squeezing his hand too tight, wasn't she? She was hurting him, wasn't she? Because she could never do anything right, not even taking care of her own twin brother.

Because she was horrible. Because she was stupid. Because she was selfish. Because she could never do _anything_ , anything right, and no matter what she tried to do, the bad guy always succeeded in hurting her family and the people she cared about.

She always succeeded in hurting her family and the people she cared about.

And all those people, they had been turning into stone, they had been living on scraps, on bat meat and rat meat and trash. They had been running, scared, had been tortured, had been hurt, and she had been off in her perfect fantasy, in her wonderful little bubble of singing trees and cute stuffies and hot boys that all loved her, and she even made up a new Dipper, someone 'more supportive,' as if she hadn't already had the bestest brother in the whole wide world, as if her twin hadn't bent over backwards a hundred thousand times just so he could support her and be there for her, and all the while Dipper had been out there, living through the apocalypse, starving, scared he was going to die, and she hadn't even thought to look for him.

 _But no, stupid selfish Mabel and her BOYS and her SUMMER, her problems are so much more important than the end of the world, than people being TORTURED_ -

Her breath was starting to come out too fast now, but she couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop sobbing, and it was all her fault, all her fault, and-

And Dipper. Dipper had come for her. Dipper had went through _hell_ for her. And he had arrived at her little imagination land and she had turned him down. She hadn't even cared. Had looked at all the pain and torture and bad stuff going on outside and had turned her back on it, even knowing it was all her fault, she had turned and almost had him thrown out from her life for good.

So many people, so many people who had gotten hurt because of her being so, so stupid and selfish and obsessed with the idea of her perfect little summer in her perfect little world.

Dipper was squeezing her hand, dragging her back, _reminding_ her, reminding her that all those people were okay, that they were safe now, that the whole mess was over-

 _It's okay, man, just let it out._

He was so good to her. He was so, so good to her, and he shouldn't be. He, and the rest of that town, the rest of Gravity Falls, should have shunned her. They should have tossed her out while they still had the chance, because Mabel Pines was stupid, she was stupid and silly and she made a mess of things wherever she went-

And Dipper was running a calloused thumb over her knuckles, making soft, soothing shushing noises, and gods, she had almost lost him. She had almost lost him, Bill had almost gotten him, had almost killed him. Bill had almost killed her, but that didn't even matter, because it had been worse than almost losing him, she had almost _given him up_.

And it was all her fault. Everything, _everything_ was all her fault.

 _I almost lost you, Dip... I almost lost the be-best part of my en-entire l-life, c-cause I was s-so stupid, so selfish, such a horrible, horrible person, an-and who am I e-even fucking kidding? Th-this is a-all my fre-freaking f-fault-_

He was shifting her then, tugging her close, even though she was disgusting and covered in snot and tears. She fell into the embrace, because she was selfish and would always accept hugs, even if she didn't deserve them.

 _Mabel, it's my fault._

Her head shot up at Dipper's small, quiet voice. Because that was wrong. That was wrong, wrong, wrong, the wrongest thing she had ever heard, and Dipper couldn't believe that, wasn't allowed to believe that, because that was _wrong_.

 _Wha-What? No, Dipper,_ no _. That- That's no-not true. You w-were freaking_ twelve _and B-Bill was manip-manipulating you and, and y-you we-were just trying to get out of one im-impossible situation after another and he w-was a freaking dream demon ho-how were you supposed to_ -

She was still crying, she was still crying because she was still hurting and because her heart was so heavy because this was all her fault but- but Dipper. Dipper wasn't at fault here, he was never at fault, and-

 _That's just it, Mabel. You were just the same. You were twelve. You were twelve and you were scared and you were tricked and you were manipulated by a dream demon who was willing to use anything he had up his sleeve to get what he wanted. It's not your fault. It's- It's Bill's fault, kay? If it's not my fault, it's not your fault. It's just- It's just Bill's fault, okay?_

She buried her head into his shoulder, nodded minutely, even if she didn't quite believe it, even though tears were still streaming down her face.

 _Whose fault?_

She wanted to say it was her's. She wanted to say it was her's, that it was her stupid little fantasies and her stupid jealousy and her stupid ego and her stupid self. She wanted to say, _Mine, always mine, I made a choice and so that choice was because of me and my stupid, stupid faults_ , but…

But if she did that, if she did that, she would be saying it was DIpper's fault. (Dipper would take it as her saying it was his fault.) She would be saying it was Dipper's fault, and her soothing words of _Not your fault_ when he was the one falling apart would lose its power, and she couldn't have that. She could never have that.

 _Bill's fault._

Dipper smiled, that small twitch of his lips that only occurred when he was truly exhausted, and he was too skinny in Mabel's arms and she was still gross in his, but, but…

They were together. They were safe. She hadn't lost him, not yet at least, and if Dipper, the smartest person she had ever known, could look her in the eye and tell her it wasn't her fault, could argue that it wasn't her fault in his steady calm voice that could only ever hint at the emotion beneath…

If he could do that… Who was she to doubt? Who was she not to listen? Who was she to turn him away (again)?

 _Let's get to bed, kay? Everything will seem brighter in the morning_.

That was usually her line. That was her line to make him feel a little better, to make him sleep when he was up for the third night in the row because his insomnia was acting up and he wasn't taking his pills because they gave him more vivid dreams than normal. That was normally her line for him, for when he was falling apart.

But this time she supposed she was the one tearing at the seams, so she didn't mind him borrowing it.

And so they stumbled up the narrow stairs, drunk on tiredness, and they collapsed onto her bed together. The lamps were out and the curtains drawn, but the fairy lights around her bed were flashing different colours in a slow, soothing rhythm, and across the ceiling the glow in the dark stars shined a faint green.

Suddenly, her eyes wouldn't stay open. She knew she would regret it in the morning, the way her eyelids clumped and the way her sweater would wrinkle and the way she would feel sticky and slimy and disgusting, but for those few moments, wrapped up with her brother, feeling so very safe and secure because together they could face anything if they faced it together…

In those few moments, she was finding it very hard to regret anything at all, because in those few moments, there was the comfort and there was warmth, the kind she had been chasing after all night, and she could finally, finally sleep.

She could finally breathe again. Could finally find the air around the lump in her throat.

For in those few moments, she was finally, finally safe.

 **...**

 **And that's that!**

 **Mabel's kind of panicking was presented very differently from Dipper's panicking. Dipper was just... was just shaking. He seemed to hardly be able to speak, to hardly understand where he was or when he was, trapped in memories and places long past. Mabel, on the other hand,in the image was just... babbling. She was babbling everything and anything that came to mind, consumed by this guilt.**

 **Dipper's panic attack was just... panic. It was panic in it's truest form, and Mabel was trying to keep him together and in the present. Mable's panic attack was less so, more of a guilt driven sob fest about everything that almost went wrong and everything that did go wrong, all based on this misplaced blame for everything, a fault she put on her own shoulders, and Dipper was letting her let it out, because otherwise she would just keep it in and hold onto it forever.**

 **They are very different, the two, and I tried to show that through my writing, especially because the original artist did such an amazing job of it.**

 **Thank you so much for reading _Breathe_. And thank you for all and any reviewers, favorites, and follows, both past and future! You guys are brilliant!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Mashpotatoe Queen**


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